LunaGreyhawk
Poem Published
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
Werifesteria
he’s twelve now,
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
#motherhood
#childhood
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
131 reads
15 Comments
LunaGreyhawk
Poem Published
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
Werifesteria
he’s twelve now,
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
#motherhood
#childhood
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
131 reads
15 Comments
LunaGreyhawk
Poem Published
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
Werifesteria
he’s twelve now,
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
#motherhood
#childhood
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
131 reads
15 Comments
LunaGreyhawk
Poem Published
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
14th Apr 2021 3:35pm
Werifesteria
he’s twelve now,
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
on the cusp of thirteen ~
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire
of budding male adolescence,
watching with pride
and curious fascination
as the pudgy faces
of my little boys
become angular,
their jawlines turning sharp
alongside their tongues
I know the day is coming
when I will not be
the most captivating woman
in his life, but for now
we will still traipse through
the woods behind the house,
gathering fatwood for s’mores
and memories that...
#motherhood
#childhood
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
#LifeCycle #NaPoWriMo2021
131 reads
15 Comments
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
12th Dec 2024 11:31am
12th Dec 2024 11:31am
Redemption
My 26 year-old daughter has bought
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.
It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.
I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.
My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface. ...
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.
It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.
I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.
My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface. ...
#family
#love
#motherhood
49 reads
1 Comment
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
12th Dec 2024 11:31am
12th Dec 2024 11:31am
Redemption
My 26 year-old daughter has bought
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.
It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.
I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.
My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface. ...
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.
It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.
I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.
My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface. ...
#family
#love
#motherhood
49 reads
1 Comment
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
12th Dec 2024 11:31am
12th Dec 2024 11:31am
Redemption
My 26 year-old daughter has bought
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.
It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.
I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.
My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface. ...
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.
It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.
I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.
My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface. ...
#family
#love
#motherhood
49 reads
1 Comment
Indie
Miss Indie
Miss Indie
Poem Published
6th May 2024 8:56am
6th May 2024 8:56am
blood and nothingness
My uterus is on its way out
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
#children
#illness
#motherhood
178 reads
4 Comments
Indie
Miss Indie
Miss Indie
Poem Published
6th May 2024 8:56am
6th May 2024 8:56am
blood and nothingness
My uterus is on its way out
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
#children
#illness
#motherhood
178 reads
4 Comments
Indie
Miss Indie
Miss Indie
Poem Published
6th May 2024 8:56am
6th May 2024 8:56am
blood and nothingness
My uterus is on its way out
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
#children
#illness
#motherhood
178 reads
4 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
26th Aug 2023 1:50am
26th Aug 2023 1:50am
Smoke
Memory floats back like smoke
and I’m back in a pie-and-mash shop with mum;
it’s one of my few happy memories of her,
uncomplicated by the past and old resentments.
It’s a bright summer’s day in a seaside town
and we’ve walked three miles to here,
to be served from warming trays
by cockney ladies in tabards.
Because the smoking ban’s not yet enforced
my mother smokes as she sits beside me,
in memory like a clay carving
with pendulous breasts and potbelly.
I savour eel sauce across two stodgy pies
and mash as thick as...
and I’m back in a pie-and-mash shop with mum;
it’s one of my few happy memories of her,
uncomplicated by the past and old resentments.
It’s a bright summer’s day in a seaside town
and we’ve walked three miles to here,
to be served from warming trays
by cockney ladies in tabards.
Because the smoking ban’s not yet enforced
my mother smokes as she sits beside me,
in memory like a clay carving
with pendulous breasts and potbelly.
I savour eel sauce across two stodgy pies
and mash as thick as...
#motherhood
#childhood
#food #memories
#food #memories
139 reads
3 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
26th Aug 2023 1:50am
26th Aug 2023 1:50am
Smoke
Memory floats back like smoke
and I’m back in a pie-and-mash shop with mum;
it’s one of my few happy memories of her,
uncomplicated by the past and old resentments.
It’s a bright summer’s day in a seaside town
and we’ve walked three miles to here,
to be served from warming trays
by cockney ladies in tabards.
Because the smoking ban’s not yet enforced
my mother smokes as she sits beside me,
in memory like a clay carving
with pendulous breasts and potbelly.
I savour eel sauce across two stodgy pies
and mash as thick as...
and I’m back in a pie-and-mash shop with mum;
it’s one of my few happy memories of her,
uncomplicated by the past and old resentments.
It’s a bright summer’s day in a seaside town
and we’ve walked three miles to here,
to be served from warming trays
by cockney ladies in tabards.
Because the smoking ban’s not yet enforced
my mother smokes as she sits beside me,
in memory like a clay carving
with pendulous breasts and potbelly.
I savour eel sauce across two stodgy pies
and mash as thick as...
#motherhood
#childhood
#food #memories
#food #memories
139 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Motherhood Published by Members Recently Online
